RoseColored Madness
by Hime Kurimuzon
Summary: (Xover w/ Ōkami) She lost it all and, now, she was losing her life. Can she still save the Soul Society from feeling the pain she was forced to bear? Or will she have to go through it all again? Can a certain child prodigy help her see that she is the one who needs saved?
1. Stand My Ground

**Chapter 1**

**Stand My Ground**

Fear gripped her heart. She could feel its cold, slimy fingers traipsing across her pale-white skin, raising goosebumps on every inch of the exposed soft flesh. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as what felt like electricity surged through the air around her and the two others in the back alley. Her nose flared, taking in the putrid stink of the garbage in the overturned dumpster nearby, but she ignored it. The little bit of moonlight that peeked through the clouds hit the metal in the hands of the one standing scant feet before her, revealing a misshapen blade. Her wide-eyed gaze traveled up the sword as it took in the odd, jagged edge. It looked almost like a saw; only the black, circular guard proved it to be a sword of some kind. The blade—once a brilliant silver—was now tarnished…with blood. Blood from the person on the ground behind her. It dripped down to the pavement, making little plopping sounds with each descent. To her, each one seemed to explode in her ears like a bomb, and she flinched every single time. Still, she refused to move.

Although the gory blade was gut-wrenching all on its own, the one who carried it was, certainly, even more-so. Sharp, inhuman teeth gleamed out at her from beneath snarling chapped lips. Stark-white skin stretched tightly over gaunt cheekbones and a wide forehead, made even more startling by the greasy black of this _thing's _hair. Or, what had once been hair. Now, it looked only to be a mess of tangles, broken branches, and bits of refuse. The light drizzle which had started just a moment ago only seemed to make it worse as the stench of unwashed skin made its way to her nose. Yet none of these things was what made it so frightening. No, that was left to the eyes.

Some say that the eyes of a person is the gateway to the soul. That is, you can see someone for who and what they are through their eyes, no matter how hard they try to hide themselves. The one standing before her was no different.

Scarlet orbs gleamed eerily out at her from the darkness of the alley, glowing like hot coals. They seemed to stare straight through her as they focused hungrily on the motionless form at her back. Only once did they let up in this deadly staring contest; and it made the very breath in her throat freeze with terror. A single word went through her head to describe the feeling she got from that one, brief second of direct eye contact. One word only…

_Monster_.

The vivid violet of her own eyes shone cat-like in the night, the pupil a mere pinpoint from her horror. Not fear for herself. She didn't care if she lived or died, but she _did_ worry for the life trembling on the street behind her. Turning her head to the side, she just managed to catch a glimpse of the young man crumpled on the ground. His face was turned towards her, so she could see his green eyes flicking here and there in confusion. First, he would stare in shock at the beast snarling at the back of the alley; then, his frightened gaze would settle upon her, a question forming in his eyes. But she turned back to face the disfigured creature before her, not wanting to answer; not even knowing _how_…

Her fear threatened to suffocate her when her eyes caught sight of the mystery attacker starting towards her. She stood her ground, however, refusing to move. Her feet grew roots, and her muscles became tight with tension. Her oddly-colored eyes still shimmered with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. In her heart, she knew that she couldn't do much. Standing between these two was the extent of her power, but her stubbornness combined with her protectiveness just wouldn't have it. The man (she knew he was male because he wore what most would consider rags so his chest was plenty-visible) seemed in no hurry. He had lowered his sword, though still kept a tight grip on it, nonetheless, as he moved slowly towards the man behind her. It seemed that he couldn't even see her, walking right past her as she whimpered pitifully and up to his latest victim.

The girl—her dark-brunette hair cascading around her—remained untouched by the rain now pouring down from the black clouds, just as she had remained untouched by that monster when he had brushed her shoulder. He had walked right _through_ her arm, unfeeling. He couldn't touch her, see her, nor hear her. She knew that. But that also meant that she couldn't do anything to stop him…

Her heart stopped as a piercing scream suddenly rent the cold, night air. Her wide, terrified eyes whirled around only to see the worst possible sight she could ever imagine…

That man—the _monster_—was standing over the fallen body of the one she had foolishly been trying to protect. His blade—with its saw-like edge—had itself embedded within the vulnerable flesh of its victim's stomach. Bright-red blood welled around the silver of the blade, drenching the clothes of its owner as well as the weapon which had released it. Another earsplitting cry cut through the empty alley as the sword was roughly and cruelly yanked out. More of the gory crimson liquid spurted from the wound, quickly taking with it the life essence of the fallen soldier.

"Another one down," the monster crooned in a voice as rich and dark as the blood now pooling at his feet. He shouldered his sword like it weighed nothing despite it being twice his size as he started walking away from the murder he had just committed. A smirk curled his thin, chapped lips as if he had just finished some menial task; as if he did this every day.

By the time the young woman managed to escape her shock, the beast had vanished into the darkness. White-hot fury bubbled up in her, making her small body tremble violently as she stood very, very still. The poisonous glare in her eyes promised death as they narrowed on the point where she had last seen the object of her hatred. Something inside her began to stir, awakening from an eon-long slumber. It seemed that not even the loudest of sirens or the greatest of earthquakes would quell this rising anger…but, then, she heard a soft whimper at her feet.

One glance down, and all her anger vanished. Sadness, fear, disbelief, and shock replaced it. She dropped to her knees next to the young man she had been trying to protect. Without really knowing why, she quickly looked him over. He had a boyish face, easily appearing younger than his years. Kind, green eyes—now clouded over with intense pain—stared back up at her, the life in them quickly dimming. Despite it being nighttime, she could still tell that his skin was tanned a dark shade by the sun, giving him an American Indian appearance. His black hair—beginning to curl now because he had waited too long to get a haircut—clung tightly to his scalp as the rain drenched him through and through. The blue of his lips informed her that his body heat was leaving him fast. Her violet gaze traveled down to the grievous injury in his abdomen, ignoring the rest of the cuts, and bruises marring his chest and arms. The tears that hadn't fallen before fell now.

"Oh, goddess, no," she choked on a sob, quickly bringing her eyes back to his face. The pain and fear she saw there were almost as bad as the wound, if not worse… "Don't die! Please, don't die!" she screamed at him, trying to get a grip on him with her insubstantial hands but failing miserably. She knew her voice and her actions couldn't reach him, but she couldn't just sit and watch him fall into oblivion…and, yet, that was exactly what she was being forced to do. "WHY?!" she shouted at the heavens above, thinking about how unfair this all was. How she was forced to watch this boy die without rhyme or reason. "Why?" she finally broke into uncontrollable crying as she forced herself to look him in the eyes. Life—the life she had grown to love for the past two years—flickered like candlelight in a strong wind. Any second now, it would go out.

And she could do nothing…

"P-Princess."

A jolt to her heart, making it beat faster within her chest. Her tears still flowed like waterfalls down her cheeks, but the sobs stayed frozen in her throat as shock ran rampant through her system. The boy's eyes and her own locked in place as they stared at one another.

"Princess," the young, 22-some-year-old mumbled with a trembling voice. His fingers twitched as if he was trying to raise his arm, but his body could no longer move.

The girl swallowed back more sobs as her long nails dug deep into her sides in an effort to be strong.

"Please…help," he managed to choke out, blood flecking his lips before a stream of it rushed from the corner of his mouth.

For the life of her—for her own sanity, even—she could not look away. Her eyes were glued—frozen—to his terrified face.

"I'm scared. Please, h-help." Tears fell from his own eyes, and she could not help but think back to how he must have been as a child. He looked so much like a child now—small and scared. She used to comfort him in the past; protect him. But what could she do now? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"Hush," she breathed, plastering on a fake, trembling smile. She rested her fingers close to his lips, encouraging him further to be silent. "Don't speak. You'll be okay," more tears fell from her eyes at this obvious lie. Maybe he didn't know just how badly he was hurt. Please, oh please, let him believe that he was okay! It'll be easier on him. At least, then, he wouldn't die while being so scared… "Just-just go to sleep, okay?" Another false smile, but it worked.

"O-okay," the boy consented, most of the fear leaving his face. Calmness replaced it as his eyelids drooped. "I lo-love y-you." With a last, shuddering breath, he was gone.

"I love you, too," Hime sobbed, feeling her heart shattering.

And, just like that, Hime Shiro lost her boyfriend…


	2. Angels

**Chapter 2**

**Angels**

"Hime Shiro," the girl answered in a breathless voice as if she didn't really have any desire to speak. Her cold, violet eyes stared up at the formidable form of Shigekuni Genryusai Yamamoto—Head Captain of the Thirteen Court Guard squads. Although her mind was reeling from this unexpected occurrence, she forced herself to remain calm and collected on the outside. She tried her best to ignore the stares from the other 12 captains in the meeting room, well-aware of their stifling reiatsu gathering around her. Her eyes slid to the right, unable to keep her curiosity at bay. A sliver of an old anger rose at the seemingly-innocent face of Fifth Division Captain, Sosuke Aizen. Before she could turn back to the Soutaichou, his brown eyes met with her amethyst ones. Surprise and a trace of contempt sparked in the chocolate-brown orbs, but Hime had no doubt that he could see absolutely no emotion in her listless gaze.

Eyes are the gateway to the soul—yes—but when a person has lost her soul… The statement doesn't really apply anymore, does it?

"Are you aware of your crime?" the Head General continued in a gravelly voice. He stared hard down at the soul standing before him. She seemed very small and fragile, although she had a height equal to that of Captain Retsu Unohana. Her thin body suggested either some sort of illness she had contracted during life or a very poor and meager diet. Despite her 5'3" height, she had all the appearances of a child, all the way down to her youthful, heart-shaped face. Her waist-long, dark-brunette hair only enhanced such features. At this observation, his eyes let up on their harsh glare. Even he had a soft spot when it came to children.

"Um, no?" Hime replied cautiously, cocking her head slightly in question. She had guessed that the place she had awoken in had been the Seireitei, but she had decided it best to play dumb. Only Soul Reapers and the few aristocrats of Soul Society were allowed to enter the Seireitei—a peaceful, protected place where the noble families and the Shinigami lived. Yet, somehow, she had managed to wander into their region. She had just woken up there—in the middle of an empty street—baffled and confused. Just a few minutes later, she had stumbled across a group of Soul Reapers who had claimed to be under the 10th Division Captain, Toshiro Hitsugaya's command. Being such diligent shinigami, they had quickly surmised that she was neither a soul reaper nor a noble. After that little observation, things had unraveled rather fast. Almost too fast for her to follow. She had been taken directly to the First Division—where a Captains' Meeting had been in session—for questioning and further orders. After all, it wasn't every day some random soul was caught wandering aimlessly through the highly-secured Seireitei…

"Are you stupid?" a nasal-like voice—full of haughtiness—spoke up in the tense atmosphere. "It is a simple question and requires a simple answer. You either know the rule or you do not. So why do you answer with a question?" The 12th Division Captain, Mayuri Kurotsuchi (also head of the Department of Research and Development) regarded the strange female with disdain.

Hime pouted but kept her face pointed forward, refusing to let the other captains see her childish expression. Her full lips remained pressed together, whatever words she may have uttered remaining trapped behind her clenched jaws. She let her eyelids drop, cutting off the image of the elderly 1st Division Captain standing proudly before her. She was just so tired. Tired and confused. The only memory playing through her head before she had arrived there was the one of her going to bed. Oddly enough, though, she wasn't physically worn out. It was more like a mental exhaustion—stress slowly sapping at her strength. She needed to rest or her body would drop like a bag of potatoes. Already she could feel the weakness shooting through her legs, making them tremble minutely. She was certain that the sharp-eyed shinigami around her would easily be able to pinpoint such tremors, no matter how small.

One of the captains, in particular, took immediate notice and decided to voice her opinion on the matter.

"Head Captain," Retsu Unohana stepped forward, her kind-hearted gaze focused worriedly upon the slight form of the frail girl. She was just so thin and pale… It was a miracle that she could stand. There were telltale signs of her once having an enticing, hourglass figure, but something must have happened and she rapidly lost a great deal of weight—not just fat but muscle, as well. If she had the height of her fellow captain, Hitsugaya, then she would have easily mistaken her for a 12-year-old child if not younger. As it was, she appeared little older than 15, maybe 16. "Perhaps we could delay this questioning for later. Please allow me to take her back to the 4th Division barracks. She needs rest, and I would like to run a few tests on her to check her health," she appealed to the Head Captain, glancing once at her elder before turning her attention back to the fragile teenager.

Yamamoto, at first, appeared reluctant, but, after taking a closer look at the shivering female before him, conceded to his subordinate's plea. "Very well," his strong voice resonated throughout the cavernous room, echoing all around the 14 people gathered within its white walls. "She will be under your charge, Captain Unohana," he continued, but then his voice and demeanor became hard at his next words. "However, she shall be confined in the 4th Division prison cells. It would be best to consider this girl as a possible danger to the Soul Society until this situation can be resolved." He beat his cane on the wooden floorboards at his feet, signaling the end of this Captains Meeting.

Knowing he would not be swayed from his position, Unohana bowed her head in submission. She walked forward, reaching out for the girl who still stood in a daze in the middle of the room. She rested a gentle hand on the thin girl's shoulder, biting back a gasp at how well she could feel the bone even through the thick black kimono. None of the other captains had left yet; all of them milling around as they snuck quick glances at the violet-eyed stranger.

Hime Shiro, feeling their stares, tensed automatically. She lowered her head, hiding her face behind a curtain of dark-nearly-black hair. The lights from above shone down on the silky strands, shimmering a red-gold in the cascade of her long locks. Soi Fon eyed it jealously, but kept her petty emotions strapped tightly down as she strode past the girl and out the door. Jushiro Ukitake and his friend, Shunsui Kyoraku both smiled softly at the sight of the girl's embarrassment at being the center of attention. The other captains simply watched in interest as Unohana led the child from the room and away from all the strange looks she was receiving. Only Aizen had a different expression on his face.

Beneath his glasses, there lay a glimmer of anxiety and it had nothing to do with the girl's well-being….

* * *

><p>"Hime-san," Retsu Unohana addressed when they were finally out of earshot of the 1st Division. She had considered using the girl's last name since it was more polite, but "Shiro-san" just sounded strange to her. Two of her fellow captains had a similar name and things could get a bit hectic if three people had the same name within such close proximity of one another…<p>

"Y-yes?" the brunette answered with a stutter, glancing over at the raven-haired captain. It was the second time she had spoken, and her voice still sounded as soft and high-pitched as a little girl's. It made Unohana's intended words melt away to be replaced by an altogether different question.

"How old are you, Hime-san?" she asked in that same gentle tone she always seemed to have. Her wise, all-knowing eyes glanced to the younger girl's face before flicking back to the wooden deck in front of them. The morning sun lit up the grounds just off to their right, showering the colorful flowers and trickling ponds with a golden halo of light. Unohana had taken careful note of how Hime's violet gaze had drifted to stare at the beautiful display yet still retained their dark emptiness. Something had happened to this girl. Something horrible. Although she had showed a little bit of emotion back in the meeting, Hime had maintained that same aloofness throughout it all. It was as if she was separate from the things happening around her; as if she lived a half-life.

"I'm twenty-three," Hime admitted in a small voice, not meeting the older woman's gaze. She knew what she looked like—a sixteen-year-old girl. Now, of course, thanks to recent events, she looked even younger. Fourteen or fifteen, probably.

"Twenty-three?" Unohana repeated, awestruck. She never would have guessed. The girl had the appearance of someone much younger, almost like a certain captain she knew. The customary smile made its way back to her lips as she recovered from her shock. "That is interesting," she commented aloud, arousing Hime's curiosity. The brunette turned to look at her, obviously paying attention to her words, if only half-heartedly. "Many of the Shinigami, especially the captains, do not have the appearance of their age, either." She stopped there, but Hime wasn't ready to stop hearing her motherly croon just yet. It seemed that listening to the captain's voice was soothing her troubled spirit. She didn't want to give that up. Unohana's voice was like a lifeline—the only one she had right now. It was small and weak—like she was—but it was a start…

"So, that white-haired guy…?" Hime started, careful not to mention names since they did not properly introduce themselves to her yet. "The—the small one…" she finished in a tiny voice, not really wanting to say that, but finding no other way to describe him. Twin patches of pink dusted her cheeks as she spoke. Cursing her shyness in her mind, Hime kept her violet eyes focused on Unohana's expression. A flicker of surprise, nothing more, passed over the kindly woman's features.

"Captain Hitsugaya?" She let out a chuckle, amused by the flare of embarrassment evident on the girl's face. She just could not bring herself to call her a "woman", even though that was, indeed, what she was. Her body was just too underdeveloped and depraved to be an adult anymore. Unohana had every intention of changing that, though. "Yes, he is _much_ older than he looks, too. In fact, I believe he would be the equivalent of your age in human years. I know that it is difficult to believe," she added the last part after seeing the shock on the brunette's pale-white face. "He just has a hard time growing, that's all."

"Oh," Hime breathed out, not knowing what else to say. Her head jerked to the side suddenly when she felt a presence appear directly behind her. Her dark hair lifted into the air as she spun around to face the person, all senses on high alert. The violet of her eyes darkened considerably when a wave of dizziness swamped her. Black shrouded the edges of her vision, but she forced it back. She would not faint. She refused to do something so…_pitiful_.

"A little jumpy, aren't we?" Gin Ichimaru—Captain of the 3rd Squad—remarked with his trademark grin. His short silver hair swept just above his eyes which were squinted shut, as usual. His fox-like face seemed rather amused by the weak-bodied girl in front of him, zeroing in on her wide violet-hued eyes.

"Ichimaru-taichou," Unohana addressed in her customary politeness, but a chill ran down Hime's spine at the tiniest bit of ice she used in her tone.

The 4th Division Captain, it would seem, didn't like it when someone messed with her patients…

"Did you need something?" she continued, smiling kindly at her fellow captain although that kindness didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Ah, not really," Ichimaru admitted in a sheepish voice, rubbing the back of his head. "Just wanted ta get a better look at the newcomer." His eyelids slit open just slightly but enough so Hime could see that his eyes were a brilliant shade of blue. They studied her for a long moment before Unohana's hand gave a gentle push to the girl's back in a silent signal of departure, effectively breaking the connection. Gin did not hesitate in showing his disappointment, even sighing aloud to shatter the sudden tension in the air. "I guess next time then, Shiro-chan," his grin widened at his own little joke. Even Unohana could not keep her own little smirk from playing about her lips at the well-known nickname the 5th Division Lieutenant constantly used for a certain white-haired taichou.

Hime just nodded her head, thoughts spinning from that brief encounter with the cunning silver-haired fox. It had felt like he had been trying to penetrate her mental barriers; unmask whatever it was he was searching for. Judging by his response to her abrupt leave (thanks to her concerned healer/jailor), he had not found anything to satisfy his obvious curiosity.

"Hime-san," Unohana-taichou's soft-yet-strong voice dispelled any questions she had going through her head. "This is where you will be staying. For the moment, at least," she sounded apologetic but firm at the same time.

The violet-eyed girl took the chance to look around, eyeing the wooden bars before her dubiously. The room was well-lit and very clean. Neat, straw mats covered every inch of this room—both inside and outside of the prison cell. The prison cell, itself, took up the majority of the area, starting about six feet from the door. Its other three sides encompassed the tanned walls of the room. Rough estimate of the size of the cell…Hime would have to guess about 30 feet by 24 feet. Plenty of space for her small frame to move around in without a problem. Looking at it now, she would even say that it was bigger than her own bedroom back home. Its only furnishings, however, were a single wire-framed bed and a rickety, old chair that she instantly recognized to be the very same one Rukia Kuchiki would occupy at a later date. Not exactly her home away from home, but it would have to do. She had no other choice if she wanted to be on the Soul Society's good side.

"Just lay down on the bed, Hime-san," Unohana requested as she led the girl through the open cell door. Hime stumbled over her own shaking feet as she reluctantly allowed the experienced shinigami to guide her into what she could only call a cage. Inside, her heart trembled with apprehension at the bars both behind her and on the window high above her on the back wall. The uncomfortable feeling of being trapped gnawed at her consciousness. Her breathing started to become more shallow and ragged than normal, but she gulped down the bile threatening to rise in her throat. Instead, she did exactly as Unohana had ordered and lay down on the bed, albeit her body was stiff as a board.

"Just relax," came the motherly croon, her weight making a depression in the bed as she sat on the thin mattress at the girl's side. Her soft hand settled on Hime's forehead, its warmth a welcome relief from the constant icy feeling always flowing across her skin. "I want to run a couple tests on you before I leave; then you can sleep, okay?" At Hime's hesitant nod, she smiled in reassurance before pulling out a long, thin needle. She watched as Hime's eyes followed the silver glint of the tip before instantly glancing away from it in displeasure. "I'm just going to draw some blood," she soothed the young girl as she took the emaciated left arm resting on the white sheets by her side. The kimono the girl wore had no sleeves so it was simple to rub the iodine at the inside of the elbow and stick the needle directly into the artery. Retsu Unohana was a professional and, thus, easily retrieved the blood she needed without a hitch. Hime didn't even feel a thing, except for the normal tiny tug from her own blood being drawn from her body. Next thing she knew, something long and slender was in her mouth. Recognizing the cold feel of a thermometer between her lips, Hime waited until the mercury had enough time to read her inner body temperature accurately.

"97.6 degrees Fahrenheit," Unohana announced after a couple of minutes had passed by. Hime arched an eyebrow at the captain, surprised that she had converted the temperature from Celsius to Fahrenheit—the latter being the American version; while the former was what the rest of the world used. "That's odd," she remarked with a frown, a crease forming between her brows. Hime decided to speak up before her low temperature worried the healer any further.

"Actually, that is my normal temperature, Uno-Miss," she quickly corrected herself mid-word, almost messing up and making the taichou suspicious of her knowing much more than she let on. Fortunately, that first part of Retsu's last name could easily be mistaken for "ano" or "um" in English. This, thankfully, was exactly what the 4th Division Captain thought she had said…

"Ah, I see," Unohana-taichou accepted the explanation, pocketing both the thermometer and the blood-filled syringe (after putting a cork on the needle, of course). A comfortable warmth settled over Hime as the raven-haired woman pulled the bed covers over her. The white sheet—though not very thick—was strangely, very cozy beneath its light weight. If Hime had glanced down at her body, she would have seen a sad sight, indeed.

Unohana looked down sadly at the girl's hidden form. The blanket barely outlined the scrawny arms, legs, and even the torso. If the covers had been any thicker, the shinigami highly doubted that she would have been able to tell if anyone lay in the bed at all. Only the visible head would have informed her of its sole occupant. Unohana let out a sigh. All the work ahead would be difficult indeed, but the girl needed to get healthy. And she would gladly be the one to help with that. After all, she was a healer.

"By the way, my name is Retsu Unohana," she told the girl as she got to her feet. "You may call me 'Retsu-san', if you'd like." With one last kind-hearted glance back; she closed the cell door, the loud clang of the lock falling into place echoing in the silence of the room. Her slender fingers switched off the lights as she walked out the second door, throwing the room into a kind of twilight—not really dark; but not really bright, either. Only a little bit of sunlight sifted in through the small, barred window above her little bed. It fell on the floor next to her in a rectangular array, visible dust drifting in the shaft of light. Hime turned on her side so that she could watch the tiny specks hover, trying to keep her mind off everything that had happened in the past couple hours. She let her mind go blank as she waited for sleep to come, but the goddess was not on her side today.


	3. Awake & Alive

**Chapter 3**

**Awake & Alive**

Two hours later, Hime—still very much awake and starting to get restless—heard footsteps coming down the hall just outside her "room". Not wanting to be seen sleeping for some reason, she instantly jumped to her feet…only to face-plant into the floor when her legs got tangled in the bed sheets.

"Graceful. _Very _graceful, Hime," she growled bitterly to herself as she pushed against the tatami mats to sit up. Rubbing her stinging face and praying that it wasn't a brilliant shade of red after its too-close encounter with the ground, she kicked the blankets off her trapped limbs. She ran a hand through her mess of reddish-black hair, working out the tangles as she tried to look presentable in case someone came in. Just as she was tossing the wad of blankets and sheets back onto the bed (after haphazardly replacing the mattress since it had fallen with her in her hurry to get up…), someone stuck their head into the room.

"Um. Ex-excuse me?" a trembling voice called into the dimly-lit room, sounding nervous.

Hime froze, staring at the entrance with wide eyes. She hated the feeling she was getting now. It felt as if she were on display; nowhere to hide. So she just stood there, keeping silent even as the lights flicked on. She flinched at the sudden flare of brightness. It hadn't seemed all that dark in here with them off. After all, it was still daytime!

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" the boy apologized emphatically. His slender hands flailed in front of his face in a wild manner as if anticipating anger for being almost blinded. The black of his hair contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, framing an innocent face. His wide, drooping eyes concentrated upon the sole occupant of the prison cell, getting caught in the girl's own amethyst orbs. His thin eyebrows arched up in surprise when he noticed the coloring of the irises, mimicking his own. "Um, a-are you, Hime-san?"

Hime didn't know whether to move towards the dark-haired shinigami or take a step back out of some base instinct. She did not like confrontation nor being the center of attention. Already she could feel the heat gathering in her face at the way the male's eyes ran up and down her body. Even though she knew that he was simply taking in her severely-malnourished body with a trained eye, she was still embarrassed as all hell.

"Yes," she answered him simply, breaking their eye contact as she glanced off to the side shyly. "Who are you? And why are you here?" Curiosity getting the better of her, Hime allowed herself to give the man (whose name she already knew) a sidelong glance from beneath her overhanging bangs as she nervously wrung her hands.

"Oh! I'm very sorry!" he apologized once again, bowing from the waist. "I am Hanatarou Yamada, 7th seat of the 4th Division." A kind, albeit-shaky grin lit up the man's features.

Yume watched him closely, intrigued by both his nervousness as well as his carefree attitude. Such a mix was rare but not unheard of. Her amethyst-colored gaze studied his thin frame which was much like hers, giving him a seemingly-weak appearance. Beneath his violet eyes, his skin puffed just a bit, making him look like he was always tired. Which he probably was, considering that the Fourth Division was always busy with healing the members of the 11th Division who fought all hours of the day. The standard black _shihakusho_ every shinigami wore clothed his slight frame. Its billowing thickness only enhanced the small size of his body; probably in much the same way Hime's own overlarge kimono did for her.

The girl's quick eyes spotted the bulk of cleaning supplies which Hanatarou had on a cart behind him. The precarious pile looked like it was close to tipping over, yet, by some miracle, remained off the floor and, thus, off the no-doubt long list of chores for Hanatarou to do that day. So he was here to clean her cell? Odd, it seemed clean enough already…

Just as this thought passed through her head, a second observation wafted into her nostrils, making her mouth water.

"I brought some lunch for you, Hime-san," Hanatarou announced after catching the girl lift her nose into the air as if to sniff out the food. He smothered a chuckle behind a hand, amused by how this strange, young woman acted. It was just so cute—like a kid or a puppy. He wondered for a brief moment if she was even aware of how she appeared to others. Her small stature and little quirks had even drawn the eyes of all the captains in the First Division meeting room. He had overheard a few of them mention that they would like to see all of her other personality traits (mainly Captains Ukitake and Kyoraku). She certainly had a unique way of showing her emotions, and in such an adorable way, at that. Of course, his own captain had clued him in on the fact that there hadn't been much to see at the Meeting, just a preview of what was to come. A smile pulled at the corners of his lips when he heard their guest's stomach grumble loudly in complaint. He actually chuckled at the disapproving frown Hime wore as she glared down at her own abdomen as it gave away how truly hungry she was.

"Here you go, Hime-san," Hanatarou said as he unlocked the cell door, clutching the tray of food tightly against one side. One step into the cell and he stumbled, about to go crashing into the hard floor. A surprised cry left his lips as he closed his eyes to ready for impact…but it never came. His violet eyes blinked open—once then twice—as he slowly became aware of a pressure against his chest. Finally deciding to look up to see what had stopped him from hurtling into the ground, he caught sight of Hime pressed against him. She seemed highly uncomfortable; her face a brilliant shade of red, practically glowing with embarrassment. Still, she kept him upright, but didn't seem strong enough to set him back on his feet on her own without fear of him (and, consequently, her) toppling over.

Yep, she was certainly adorable. Rangiku was going to love her…

Only then did the dark-haired shinigami come to his senses and realized his position with the female…

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Hime-san!" he shrieked, leaping backwards only to lose his balance once again. This time, however, he fell. Ignoring the sting in his tailbone as best he could, he continued shouting out apologies to the poor girl who could only watch on in horror. His string of incoherent babble only stopped when she suddenly started giggling. "Uh…Hime-chan?" he asked in a worried tone, eyes wide. The fact that he had subconsciously changed the honorific on her name escaped him as he watched with disbelieving eyes as the once-quiet girl had a laughing fit right in front of him.

Hime couldn't help it. The sight of the violet-eyed boy before her screaming for forgiveness while his face was even redder than hers was priceless! And she knew that trying to stop him would be futile. Beyond futile, if that was possible. With Hanatarou Yamada, it probably was…

She laughed for nearly a full minute before her chuckles finally died down. Taking a deep breath, Hime smiled at the man. It was a true smile; not a false one like she had been wearing for the past four months. Whoever said that laughter was the best medicine was right. She felt so much better now. That laughing fit was exactly what she needed to overcome all of the stressful events that had taken place recently. Man, she couldn't even recall the last time she had laughed like that, or even felt so happy—or even a modicum of happiness at all. She just hoped that this wasn't a short-term thing…

Still grinning like an idiot, Hime offered a hand to Hanatarou who still resided on the floor. She barely managed to pull him up—his body weight being slightly heavier than her own—but was too stubborn to show how weak she was. Once both of them were on their feet, they both started to speak at the same time.

"I'm so—" Hime began but stopped when she heard an echo.

"I'm so—" Hanatarou also broke off mid-apology as his violet orbs caught sight of Hime's mouth moving. He turned red when he realized where he had been staring and quickly glanced away.

"You don't need to apologize, Hanatarou-kun," the brunette soothed in a slightly-raspy voice. It had been awhile since she had spoken so much in less than twenty-four hours. Normally, she would go a month without saying a single word. But that life she had been living before arriving in the Soul Society seemed so far away now. It felt like she was another person, or, at the very least, her old self—before her life had shattered into a million pieces…

"Uh, but—," the man started but Hime interrupted his rebuttal with a shake of her head.

"You've already said enough apologies to last a hundred lifetimes," she teased with a smile, referring to his earlier "forgiveness" breakdown. She smothered a giggle behind a hand when she saw him turn red out of sheer embarrassment. Rubbing the back of her neck in display of her own humiliation, she let her eyes slide off to the side as she thought about how to give him her apology. "But I would like to apologize for laughing," she admitted in a nervous voice, looking anywhere but at him. "I didn't mean to laugh at you. Actually, I wasn't really laughing _at_ you, just at the way you kept apologizing… That doesn't really make any sense, does it? Man…" she stumbled over her own apology, letting out an exasperated sigh. Her thoughts on how to make amends with the kind-hearted healer were disrupted by the very person she was asking for forgiveness.

"Don't apologize for _that_!" Hanatarou exclaimed, waving his hands in front of his face as if to say such a thing was ludicrous. "I liked your laugh. You should do it more often," he confessed with a soft smile, not a trace of deceit in his voice.

Hime stared at him for a moment before feeling her face heat up to an unbearable degree.

"Oh, no! Do you have a fever, Hime-chan?!" He started fretting over her, placing the back of his hand to her forehead.

Her face just grew warmer at how close he was, but the girl shook her head vehemently in answer, not trusting her voice enough to speak.

Ignoring the movement of her head, the 7th seat continued checking her temperature. His eyes narrowed in worry at how much heat radiated off the girl's skin. His captain had informed him that she had a low body temperature and, that when she had first arrived, her skin had felt like ice. This did not feel like ice…

"You should lay down, Hime-chan. I'll go get Captain Unohana," he suggested in a stern voice. He steered Hime over to her bed, forcing her down onto the bundle of sheets and blankets. Hime—too weak to resist him—let herself be maneuvered like a rag doll. Her stomach gave yet another rumble of hunger, reminding the both of them that she had yet to eat. Hanatarou—having completely forgotten about the tray of food he had brought in for Hime—muttered yet _another_ apology as he scooped up the thankfully-intact lunch tray. Remarkably, nothing had spilled. Not even a single grain of rice. The black-haired shinigami blinked in amazement at that as he handed the food to a ravenous Hime. He was sure he had lost control of the tray, letting it go sailing as he fell. There was no way it could land without _something_ breaking and/or spilling. Even the fragile teacup was still standing, not a drop spilled.

Mentally shaking himself, Hanatarou dropped the matter. He would think about it later if he had the time, although he doubted very much that he would. Being a seated officer in one of the busiest divisions in all of Soul Society kept his free time pretty limited. "I'll be right back," he assured Hime as he hurried from the prison cell. In his hurry to fetch his captain, he had forgotten to shut and lock the cell door.

Hime sighed from her spot in her bed, a piece of bread in her hand. Sticking the food in her mouth since she was reluctant to place it back on the tray, the brunette set aside the remainder of her lunch before standing up. Stretching her arms towards the ceiling, the violet-eyed girl cringed as her spine made several distinct cracking noises. Spirits, she was in bad shape! Oh, well. She shrugged it off as she made her way over to the open space in the wooden bars. Hanatarou would get in big trouble if someone (perhaps even Retsu-san) discovered that he had left a prisoner with an unlocked cell door. The rough wood scraped her fingers a bit as Hime pulled the door into its proper position—closed. She remained on the inside of the bars, snorting when she thought of how she had just locked herself up. Not a particularly-pleasant observation, but it wasn't as if these bars were the only things keeping her trapped here. Even if she had snuck out thanks to Hanatarou's carelessness, she would still have to deal with all of the shinigami within the Seireitei. And, even if, by some miracle, she had managed to sneak past the hundreds or thousands of soul reapers, she would _still_ have nowhere to go. The Rukongai did not sound like a pleasant place to spend time in, even the higher districts like Junrinan. They would be too boring for her; besides, the answers she needed would be in the Seireitei. That, she was sure about. She had no intention of sitting back and letting everything happen like this. She wanted to find out what in the seven hells she was doing here in the first place! Waking up in the Seireitei… That _had_ to be a clue! The answer was around here…among the shinigami…

"How curious."

Hime froze at the familiar voice as it danced through her little cell. She hadn't even noticed someone had entered the room. Her violet gaze snapped over to the shadowy corner it had issued from-the only spot where there was any darkness at all. Even now, she could barely pick up any of that immense reiatsu the person possessed. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as a feral growl threatened to erupt from her throat. She choked back that insane urge to snarl like some wild animal as her eyes narrowed in on the faint outline of a man standing in the shadows. As he stepped forward, more and more of his features became visible in the light of midday. Feverish golden eyes stared greedily out at her from a painted black-and-white face, never leaving her slight frame. A wide, toothy grin made goosebumps form on her pale flesh as the captain leered creepily at her. The white of his haori only drew her eye for a moment before the single impossibly-long nail of his middle finger captured her full attention; it was painted a pitch-black. The rest of his nails were short—half the length they were supposed to be—but also shared that same shade of black. Hime's eyes only looked up for a brief second to stare at the strange contraptions on the shinigami's head. The hat, alone, was odd—white and swept off at an angle—but the three gold _things_ were even stranger. One each at his chin and sides of his head where his ears were supposed to be. All in all, his head looked similar to a certain household item…

_'Lightbulb-head,' _Hime thought to herself in bemusement, recalling the nickname she had given him in the past. She would have grinned if she could, but she was frozen with fear. The man before her had a reputation for performing inhumane experiments on people. With the way he was grinning at her, she knew that he hoped for her to be his next project. She eyed her cell door with trepidation, wondering if a simple lock would be enough to deter the captain's fervor. She very much doubted it.

"Perhaps you possess more intelligence than I first theorized," Captain of the 12th Division, Mayuri Kurotsuchi remarked in a cold sneer. He moved to the cell door, easily swiping open the lock all in less time than it took for a breath. Hime stumbled backwards over her own two feet as his icy fingers closed over her wrist. Still too frazzled by the captain's sudden appearance, she gave him little resistance as he flash-stepped the two of them out of her temporary prison cell. She released a loud, piercing cry only once as they passed by the 10th Division in a flash of speed, making sure that she shouted Mayuri's name as loud as she possibly could. She paid dearly for her last-ditch attempt at freedom when the pair reached the 12th Division laboratory, earning a hard slap to the side of her face usually reserved for the obedient Nemu. "Quiet, you ungrateful girl!" Kurotsuchi hissed, releasing his tight grip on Hime's wrist.

Hime clutched her hand to her chest, ignoring the stinging in her cheek as she spun around to run…only to crash into someone's chest. Bouncing back, she stared fearfully up at the one who had blocked her only escape route. A familiar trio of horns met her tear-filled gaze along with a lazy trail of smoke from the butt of a cigarette.

"Who's this?" Akon mumbled around his smoke, regarding the strange girl with a cool aloofness. His dark eyes traveled over her scrawny form, observing her emaciated arms and legs which were visible due to her short, black kimono. The pallid white of her skin was only enhanced by the darkness of her hair which seemed to encompass all hair colors worldwide. _'Hn. A brunette?'_ he concluded to himself, eyeing the length of her hair. The waist-long locks just made her appear all the more childlike although he knew that couldn't be the case. Being the scientist he was, he could easily see that she had hit puberty. Her chest was by no means flat (although it could not hope to compete with Lieutenant Matsumoto's), and her hips had already widened enough for a child to pass through the birth canal. If she had not been starved half to death, she would have possessed an alluring hourglass figure.

Akon instinctively grabbed the girl's wrist when she tried to sidestep him. His astute hearing picked up her sharp intake of breath even as his quick eyes detected the glistening tears in the corners of her eyes. Moving his thumb out of sheer curiosity, the leading member of the research department caught sight of the large bruise circling the girl's right wrist. "Shit…" he sighed, taking a hold of her other wrist before pulling her over to a chair which sat against one wall. He ignored the probing stares of his fellow scientists as they watched him treat the girl's injury with growing interest.

"A new research subject," Kurotsuchi replied offhandedly as he made his way over to his computer to input some fresh data.

Realizing his captain wasn't about to go into more detail, Akon rolled his eyes and let out yet another sigh. "What's your name?" he spoke in a soft voice as if scared of breaking the girl sitting in front of him. He could easily see her trembling from fear and pain even as she sat in the tiny metal chair. Even though he could guess all of the horrors his captain would like to thrust upon the poor thing, he knew that he couldn't. Not if he wanted to live the next few hours once the Head-Captain discovered what he had done. Most likely, Mayuri would just take a few samples and run a couple of tests just to see what made her tick. Even if he wanted to go further than that, he wouldn't have the time. The captains would be alerted within a couple of hours; and they'd have their hands full bull-shitting their way out of yet another problematic situation. Akon sighed again. Their captain got them into a butt-load of trouble almost on a daily basis…

Hime shivered at the touch of his hands as they poked and prodded over her bruised wrist. She had felt some of the tiny bones there crack earlier when she had been rudely lugged around the Seireitei. Her bones were like glass in a hailstorm—it didn't take much to break them. "Hime Shiro," she answered in a shaky voice, trying not to let her tears fall. She hated showing weakness.

"Shiro?" Akon repeated, and Hime knew exactly why. She glanced up at him just in time to catch the amused smirk play about his lips. "Hn. Another one," he chuckled before focusing on what he was doing.

Hime stared at him for a long moment, his words ringing in her head. Mentally, she shook herself, gulping back the tears and the memories that accompanied them. She forced herself to take a look around, hoping that, by doing so, she would be able to overcome the waves of memories. Wonder suffused within her as several pairs of eyes—belonging to many strange beings—met hers. The familiar heat of embarrassment flushed her face, but she refused to glance down at her lap; too curious for her own good. She didn't know the names of most of them. But she did recognize one face out of the seven surrounding her.

Rin Tsubokura rushed over to her—surprisingly, without tripping—eyes shining with delight. "I'm Rin Tsubokura! But you can call me 'Rin'," he greeted with a smile. Realization donned on his face and he dug around in one of his many pockets before pulling out a small, wrapped toffee. He handed it to the girl with childish glee, telling her that it was a piece of candy he had found in the human world. His fellow scientists laughed at his enthusiasm for making a friend outside of the lab as Hime took the proffered sweet with a barely-audible thanks.

Hime looked at the candy in her hand, recognizing the blue wrapper as one of her favorite sweets. Her own violet eyes lit up and, forgetting her previous fear and pain, she unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth. The smooth flavor of vanilla coated her tongue as she sucked on the candy. "It's one of my favorites. Thank you, Rin-kun!" She didn't miss the red coloring the boy's cheeks as he glanced away while rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish manner.

"Y-you're welcome, Hime-san," he stuttered, embarrassed but happy that he had cheered her up a bit. He hated it when someone was sad or scared. He knew how they felt and disliked both emotions. If he had the ability to help someone, he would.

"There you go, Hime-san," Akon declared, bringing the girl's attention back to her wrist. He had wrapped it up in a white, linen bandage after applying some kind of cream to her bruised skin. The cream must have been some kind of special medicine because Hime could feel it tingling over her injury, soothing the flare of pain deep in her bones. She watched in wonder as the horned man settled her hand on her knee with the utmost care before he spoke again. "You shouldn't move it around too much. Seems like you have some broken bones." With that bit of advice, he got up from his seat and headed towards his captain who was still messing with something on the monitor. He motioned for Rin to take his spot in watching the newcomer. The brown-haired shinigami—who greatly resembled Hanatarou from Squad Four—nodded his head as he sat down in front of the frail girl.

"Captain, what exactly are you looking for in this girl?" Akon came up to stand by Mayuri Kurotsuchi, tossing him a questioning glance. He ignored the irritated glare he received for his inquiry, blowing out a stream of cigarette smoke.

"That is none of your business," Mayuri grumbled, hitting a few keystrokes before turning back to his newest research piece. "All you need to worry about, Akon, is simply to follow orders." His gold eyes snapped back to his subordinate, a glimmer of warning sparking within their depths. "Need I remind you who your superiors are?"

"Of course not, sir," Akon replied in a careless but respectful tone, putting out his cigarette on the edge of a table. He followed his captain over to where the girl sat with Rin still at her side. The boy had sprang up from his seat at the sight of the captain approaching, but Hime had hold of his white lab coat and refused to let go. Amusement tugged at the corners of Akon's lips. He wondered if Hime knew how childish her actions were, or how great of an effect she was having on the shy Rin. The poor man was blushing madly as she clung to the hem of his left sleeve but made no move to pry himself away, knowing full-well how frightened she was of the 12th Division Captain.

"Stop coddling the subject. We have little time to waste," Mayuri demanded of his scientists. "Now, my dear girl, you need to get up on the table," he instructed Hime, voice full of haughtiness. The emaciated brunette gave him a weak glare, not budging from her seat. The irritation which had been simmering within Kurotsuchi's odd features, now started to burn with anger at the lack of compliance to his orders. Akon stepped in before he could hurt the girl further.

"Hime-chan," the dark-haired scientist addressed in his usual, stoic voice. Hime glanced up at him, expression still untrusting but much more respectful. "It will just be a few simple tests and then you can go back to your room. We just need some samples," he explained with a cursory glance at his commanding officer. He nodded in relief when he caught sight of the captain giving an exaggerated roll of his eyes. That, in his captain's body language, meant that tests were the only things they had time for. It was just as he had surmised.

"Y-yeah," Rin nervously input, leaning down so that he could be at eye-level with the brunette. "Just a few samples. It's nothing bad. Promise." He gave Hime what he hoped was an encouraging smile. He felt more than saw her fingers loosen their grip on his lab coat as the small-framed girl got to her feet. Reluctantly, she took a step forward in the direction of the examination table. Rin kept close to her side as she walked. There were two reasons for this: one, was to make sure she didn't run away and, thus, upset the volatile captain; and, two, was to help her feel more at ease. Even he knew how frightening the 12th Division laboratory appeared to outsiders.

"Hurry up! We don't have all day," the captain complained, earning a glower from the weak-muscled Hime. Either he didn't see her glare or he just didn't care. Personally, Hime thought it was the latter, knowing his callous attitude and all.

"What are you taking samples of exactly?" she asked in a voice stronger than what she had been using. She couldn't help the question from leaving her lips. Her curiosity had a tendency to make her say or do stupid things. Her typical response to the age-old adage "curiosity killed the cat" was "well, it's a good thing I'm not a cat". If she had been of the feline species, then she would have been six-feet under a thousand times over…

Knowing that she couldn't take back her question, she looked up at Kurostuchi as she sat upon the cold metal of the table and awaited his response. She only hoped that her inquiry wasn't answered with antagonism. Surprise registered dimly in her brain when the 12th Division Captain replied without a single speck of annoyance in his voice. Of course, the conceit still ran rampant through his words, but Hime could live with that.

"Your blood, bone marrow, reiatsu," he started listing off as he pulled a tray of equipment closer to the table. "Just the usual." Something gleamed in his crazed eyes as he turned back to the girl as if waiting for her to respond to something he had said.

The first thought that ran through Hime's mind was about the bone marrow. "Bone marrow?" she repeated in a frightened voice. "You're going to take a sample of my bone marrow? But—but why?!" Having had a mother who had taken medical classes for training as a nurse, Hime was well-aware of the horrible pain when taking bone marrow. The needle had to insert directly into the bone in order to do it. She was starting to have second thoughts about all of this. Perhaps allowing them to take samples had been the wrong plan of action to take?

"Don't worry!" Mayuri assured; although, with the way he said it, it didn't really help alleviate any fear. "You'll be out like a light when I take a sample of that. You won't feel any pain during any of these tests. Just stay still and let me do my work." He picked up a needle—one that looked familiar.

Recognizing the syringe which Captain Unohana had used to draw her blood a mere two hours ago, Hime stuck her arm out before Mayuri had the chance to ask for it. Although she didn't like the idea of cooperating with this man, she knew she would have to if she wanted to get back to the 4th Division. Besides, the sooner she got this over with, the better.

"Well, this may be easier than I thought!" Kurostuchi exclaimed, apparently excited to have a willing test subject. Already, Hime could hear the gears turning in his oddly-shaped head as he sorted through various plots to get her back onto his examination table after the other captains "rescued her". She suppressed a snort at the notion, complaining to herself that she wouldn't be caught dead on his autopsy table let alone on his experiment table as a guinea pig. She had no desire to grow horns, lose an eye, or what-not. None of those things were on her to-do list. NOT. AT. ALL.

After Kurostuchi had taken his fill of her blood, Hime now found herself facing yet another needle. This one, however, was not empty. The clear, plastic part held a pale-green liquid. Her eyes widened marginally, not liking the fact that it was giving off a faint glow. She inched away from it, squirming in discomfort when she felt Akon settle his hands on her shoulders. She didn't even bother to glance up at him, continuing to eye the unusual liquid, instead.

"This is just a simple anesthetic which will let you sleep while I harvest your bone marrow," Kurostuchi enlightened, grabbing the young woman's emaciated arm before sliding the needle into her shoulder.

Hime tried to stay still, but everything inside her was screaming to fight. The sedative quickly spread throughout her body, making her eyelids droop even though she fought against sleep. Something was there, waiting for her in the darkness. She didn't want to go anywhere near it. But, of course, fighting against a drug that had taken over your entire system was a fruitless battle. Within minutes, she was out.

Akon steadied the girl's slim body as she slumped against him. That had taken longer than he had expected. That tranquilizer was a specialty of the 12th Division and had been designed to knock a person out within seconds of injection; not minutes.

"Well, that took longer than expected," his captain drawled, unknowingly mirroring his subordinate's thoughts. It took very little time for him to withdrawal the bone marrow from the girl's limp form with a much-larger and much-sturdier needle. When he had this sample safely stowed away in a vial at his desk, Kurostuchi moved on to his next objective. "Let's get some of that reiatsu, shall we?" he asked no one in particular, rubbing his hands together in obvious glee.

Akon rolled his eyes. Sometimes, he'd swear his captain was nuts, but he was still a genius. A mad genius but, still, a genius.

Hime stiffened in his hold. The horned male glanced down at her, catching the pained expression on her heart-shaped face. A tremor of concern shot through him at that moment. That sedative was not supposed to allow a person to have dreams. It had an additive in it to sever both the conscious mind _and_ the subconscious, effectively knocking a person into their unconscious state. In other words, that meant Hime wasn't technically asleep. Much like how an alcoholic drinks one too many beers and passes out from the overload (yes, they have tested the theory with the many alcoholics running rampant around the Seireitei…). And it was impossible for her to feel any physical pain, as well. Just what was going on?

"Interesting," Mayuri commented, also spotting the odd reaction Hime was having. "Hurry and set up the reiatsu machine! We must gather all our data!" His golden eyes widened with excitement as he watched the girl in his subordinate's hold shiver and whimper as she struggled within the throes of a nightmare.

"You knew this would happen?" Akon questioned with incredulity, catching on to what his captain was getting at.

"Of course I did," the black-faced man divulged with a wry grin. "I took out the additive which prevents the subconscious from melding with the unconscious. This way, we can get a closer look at her memories as well as her reiatsu when it flares." Just as he finished speaking, a massive amount of spiritual pressure surged out of the girl. It wasn't anywhere near a captain's, but it was enough of a surprise that it knocked Rin right off his feet. The power burst lasted for about three seconds before lapsing into a silent nothingness once more. "Amazing! Simply astounding!" Kurostuchi exclaimed in delight. He sounded like a kid on Christmas who had gotten something far better than what he had expected. With lightning-speed, the scientist grabbed the vial of captured reiatsu and sped over to his computer to input the data he had just harvested.

Akon, Rin, and the other laboratory assistants rushed over to a revived Hime as she woke up with a scream. Each one held an arm or a leg or any other body part they could reach. At first, they thought they could get away with one maybe two people holding her down as someone else went to find a proper sedative, but they quickly discovered how useless that was. She tossed back both Rin _and _Akon when they tackled her as she dropped to the floor in a failed attempt to get away. Words of reassurance fell on deaf ears as everyone (minus the captain) tried to calm the frail-seeming woman. It was as if she was still trapped in her dark dreams, unable to escape. Her once-shining violet eyes were now clouded with pain, fear, and grief. A feral glint had entered them, now, proving that she was not of stable mind at the moment.

"Hime-san!" Rin tried to get through but got kicked in the face as a reward. Akon did not even bother trying to reason with the frantic girl, opting for sticking a syringe full of the proper tranquilizer into the back of her knee. He sighed with relief after he had successfully-injected all of the sedative into her. A moment later, however, proved that she still had a lot of fight left in her…

Hime felt the drugs work their way through her system even as she fought with all her might. She didn't like this one bit. It took the entire lab to restrain her arms and legs as she struggled to get away, instinct rearing up deep within her heart. Not a sound left her throat, solely because she didn't want to give these people the satisfaction of hearing her scream or whimper. A powerful kick from her right leg connected with someone's chin, effectively breaking their hold. Her ears picked up the pained cry of Rin and a trickle of guilt made its way into her conscience, but she did not ease up on her battle with the scientists. She had no intention of reliving that hell again!

Kurotsuchi turned to the monitor while his subordinates worked on sedating the girl. He snorted at their obvious concern for the female while his long, thin fingers flew over the keyboard. Another yelp from one of the shinigami behind him enticed him to throw a half-interested glare at the squabbling group gathered around the medical table. A rare glimmer of amusement shone in his yellow eyes at the sight of his top scientist—the horned Akon—rubbing his forearm where the deceptively-vicious girl had bit him. Another grunt and the 12th Division Captain turned his attention back to the monitor. The data had finally finished processing, and his eyes widened at the computer's final decision. The flashing green letters and numbers splayed across the screen—which, to the average person, would make little sense—gave its user a clear and definitive answer.

"She's alive?"


End file.
